Monday, August 15, 2011

So much to say...

There have been so many things I've wanted to write up over the last ten months. I don't have a computer and I only have limited internet access and it's usually at work when I can't wrap my mind around writing because I'm tired and have kids to try to keep safe and sane. I also kind of need private space and I haven't had that in a long time. Soon though I will be moving and somehow hooking up a old desktop a friend gave me to the internet. And hopefully finding the right words for some of the things I need to say.
I also felt an obligation and need to write about my son Fox's birth and try to remember it positively when actually it wasn't an entirely positive experience at all. His birth was followed a week later by his death and I did not and do not know where to start. It turns out some things don't make you stronger, they just make you weirder and develop a stutter and become unapproachable to most people and have trouble relating to anyone at all about anything. I didn't want to start writing about this pregnancy and baby before I wrote about my little boy for fear of looking like I'm avoiding the subject or forgetting him. Good news is easier to write than bad though. The end of this pregnancy is anticipated in about 3 months so it looks like I'm just going to end up writing about both of my babies at once back and forth and sometimes together. It's Fox's one year birthday next month but he isn't turning a year old at all, he is in a plastic box in a cemetery in uptown. That really bothers me. As does just about everything about how his death was handled. There were a lot of cops who went as far as to accuse me of poisoning my baby with the cat treats they found on the counter. He didn't see any cats around afterall, because most cats hang around when the house is filled with cops and screaming crying people right? They didn't let me hold him and left him on the floor and left the front door wide open a few feet away. It snowed for the first time last year that night. His funeral was only 4 days later because I wouldn't embalm him. Funerals are a lot harder to plan when you are an atheist I think.
I waited the for the minimum 3 recommended cycles to pass before getting pregnant again giving this baby a due date of 3 weeks after her brothers first birthday. Fox's death was preceded by the death of close friend of many of my friends and partner to my dear friend, My dog Harry Winston, my uncle Paul and my maternal grandfather with whom I share many interests and qualities. My grandpa was heavily drugged and out of touch in the last days before his death but my mom whispered in his ear that I was pregnant again and he was happy to hear it and mustered enough strength to tell my little secret to someone else when he hadn't been talking and people had been saying he wasn't coherent enough to do so. When I was small I remember hugging him and feeling straps under his shirt. I thought it was something related to him being old and having some kind of medical device. Later when I was a very femme queer teenager my mother told me that I was wrong, that my grandpa was wearing a bra and that he wore womens cloths whenever he could without shame from his wife and that probably no other grandkids knew and the family doesn't talk about it. I was thrilled. My grandfather knew that I knew and that it was totally fine by me. So on the rare occasion we were alone he would tell me stories about how hard it was to learn how to wear high heels and openly buy frilly frocks and panties when he gave me a ride to the thrift store. About two years ago I stopped by my parents house to get keys to the my uncles cabin from them with a woman with whom I had been sleeping with and who was to be my companion on the trip the the cabin. My grandpa was there stopping by at the same time and when we left he reportedly when to my stepfather and continually asked him of all people "Is that April's girlfriend!?" which no doubt made my ignorant asshole stepfather very very uncomfortable. I love him for doing that as well as many other things. When my grandpa was on his death bed I was able to look through his many photo albums which included pictures of queer couples he knew in his youth and a recent photograph of two women which had writing on the back declaring it a photo of their wedding day. When all my grandpas stuff was getting dispersed I was angry to find all of his wigs and things gone. I demanded to know where his lady things had went and I salvaged what I could find and have kept them. I love my grandpa and his queerness and I miss him very much. I wish I knew what he liked to be called and that I knew more of his queer history.
These next few months are going to be crazy and I think I'm mostly ready to have friends again and I plan to start writing again. It might not always be really happy stuff but you don't have to read it if you don't want to.

4 comments:

I am so glad that you are writing again. You have no idea who I am, and I have no idea who you are. Yet, I've been anxiously awaiting a new post on this blog. I am so sorry for your loss. I am so sorry that the world is filled with assholes. I am happy for you with this new bundle that you are expecting; and I am grateful for your honest writing.